


The Perils Of Vodka

by charivari



Series: Decepticon Teachers AU [10]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Teachers, Angst, Deathsaurus is a tattoo artist/rock musician with groupies, Humanformers, Infidelity, M/M, Philosophy workshop, Poor Pharma, Skywarp the most unprofessional janitor who ever lived, Tarn and Soundwave being drunk idiots, Vodka, Why drinking is a bad idea, tattoo parlour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-02
Updated: 2015-06-02
Packaged: 2018-04-02 12:20:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4059772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charivari/pseuds/charivari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tarn and Soundwave get drunk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Perils Of Vodka

**Author's Note:**

> This is set after End of Year Party so you might want to read that first. But if not, basically Tarn now suspects there's something up with Megs and SS and Shockwave has (kinda) hooked up with Blurr the hooker. Lol see what I did there?

Well this was perfectly awkward.

Tarn and Soundwave sitting in the teacher's lounge after hours, cradling Nietzsche on their laps.

It normally shouldn't have been awkward. But Megatron had cancelled at the last moment, leaving the other two members of the Philosophy Workshop to go it alone.

Granted they had tried. Tarn had recited his preformed opinions like a student giving a class speech. Soundwave had concurred and presented his own thoughts. All of them succinct, as Tarn had come to expect from Soundwave. 

But the IT teacher lacked Megatron’s impassioned flair. Both of them did. Megatron could talk for hours on a subject and never seem boring. Without him, there was a lot of awkward silence.

It didn’t help that at the back of Tarn’s mind he was wondering where Megatron was. Ever since the end of year party Tarn had come to suspect Megatron and Starscream were having an affair. The idea would have been ridiculous once upon a time. But both had disappeared during the party and had been found in the place. It could have been coincidence, they may have simply been arguing.

But Tarn had noticed the way they stood together at school. Always close, always leaning in, Starscream hurling abuse while Megatron smirked. Smirking perhaps because he would have Starscream bent over a desk. Not that Tarn had caught them in the act. 

He dreaded the day he might. 

Soundwave said something he didn’t quite catch.

“Pardon?” Tarn said apologetically.

“I said would you like a drink?” Soundwave said.

Yes, Tarn thought. A whiskey would help him relax. But they were in the teacher’s lounge, not a bar. He shook his head,

“If I have coffee now I won’t be able to sleep.”

The kind supplied to the teachers was nasty. Tarn usually bought coffee in from outside. The cafes overcharged but it was better than forcing down sludge. He wasn’t touching the expired orange juice in the refrigerator either.

“I didn’t mean coffee,” Soundwave said, “Skywarp keeps a bottle of vodka with his cleaning supplies.”

Tarn stared at him in disbelief. He doubted Skywarp could keep a secret like that from Prowl.

“I am not jesting,” Soundwave said, “Come with me.”

The janitor’s office was just down the hall. Soundwave produced a key and opened the door.

“Skywarp gave you a key?” 

“He was using the school computers to watch pornography,” Soundwave said without a flicker of emotion, “Haven’t you ever wondered why he never pranks my office?”

Tarn had wondered. Now he knew he would definitely be using the knowledge to his advantage. Skywarp didn’t target his office quite as much as he did Starscream’s. But rude drawings on his chalkboard were not something Tarn appreciated. 

Soundwave selected a bottle of clear liquid from a row of cleaning products.

“How do you know its vodka?” Tarn said dubiously.

The label slapped on it read BLEACH. 

“I’ve seen him drink out of it,” Soundwave said, “I doubt he would purposely poison himself.”

Tarn supposed in the event of Prowl doing a random search, a bottle clearly marked vodka would be grounds for dismissal. Skywarp had obviously been smart enough to figure that out. 

“I’m game if you are,” Soundwave said.

Tarn supposed vodka was better than awkward silence. If by chance it did turn out to be bleach, it would be an excuse to adjourn the meeting and head for the hospital. 

The pair returned to the teacher’s lounge. Soundwave poured some of the liquid into two coffee mugs. Tarn was reassured by the smell and consistency. He raised his mug in a toast,

“To Nietzsche.”

“Nietzsche,” Soundwave echoed. 

They clinked their mugs and drank. Vodka burned its way down Tarn’s throat. A good satisfying burn that left him buzzing.

Considering it belonged to Skywarp it wasn’t too bad. 

Tarn knocked back the rest and extended his mug for a re-fill.

Conversation came easily after that. The pair rambled about philosophy with new found enthusiasm. The conversation somehow spiraled into family life. The twins had a lot in common with Tarn’s brothers. They swapped stories on the boy’s recent misdeeds. Tarn found himself laughing uproariously, something he didn’t usually do. He couldn’t help it, he felt so light and relaxed and everything Soundwave said was funny.

He had never realized Soundwave could be funny. Or that he was capable of smiling and laughing like he was at the moment. 

But then his flushed face turned serious.

“You know Tarn,” he slurred, “I res-pect you. You’re so creative y’know.”

Tarn grinned,

“Creative? Psshah,” he gave Soundwave a playful push. 

Soundwave bounced back like one of those inflatable punching bags. 

“No really,” he insisted, “You got all those thingies – those thingies on your face.”

Tarn slouched in his chair happily,

“Piercings?” 

“Yeah,” Soundwave sighed wistfully, “I always wanted a tattoo. Like a black cat... Or a panther.”

Tarn lurched forward,

“You should!” he enthused, “You should do that. I know a guy, he did all this…”

He waved at his own face,

“He does tattoos. He could do you a panther,” Tarn suddenly had a wonderful idea, “Let’s go right now! His parlor’s not far from here. We could walk!”

Soundwave contemplated a moment. Then he shot precariously to his feet.

“Let’s go!”

Tarn needed no further encouragement. He and Soundwave proceeded towards the door.

“Wait we should bring the vodka!”

“Yeah good idea.”

Tarn wasn’t sure how long it took them to find the place. They seemed to wander through a lot of different streets before Tarn caught sight of the sign. 

Warworld Tattoos and Piercings. 

“That’s it!” he told Soundwave joyfully.

“Wooo!” Soundwave hurled the vodka bottle in celebration.

It smashed on the sidewalk. Tarn didn’t mind. They had filtered it down the last dredges during the journey. 

Together they staggered towards the shop. Tarn went to open the door.

Wait something was wrong with the handle. He jiggled it to no avail.

“The sign says closed,” Shockwave moved to rest his face against the glass, “9 AM to 4.30 PM.”

He let out a deep sigh. Tarn felt the sting of failure. But suddenly he remembered a crucial detail.

“It’s okay,” he reassured Soundwave, “He lives upstairs. DEATHSAURUS! DEATHSAURUS!”

Soundwave chimed in. 

After a while the heavily tattooed man answered the door in a robe. 

"Tarn are you aware what time it is?” 

Tarn waved his arms impatiently,

"My friend - he wants a tattoo."

“A panther!” 

Deathsaurus gave Soundwave a once over and turned back to Tarn,

"Sorry pal, even if I was open, your friend isn't sober. I'm not opening myself up to a law suit."

"'Saurus?" a voice called from inside.

"I'll be back in a minute Bacchus," Deathsaurus turned back to the duo, "I have company. The kind I stick my dick in. You two come back when you're sober."

He shut the door before either could protest.

"What now?" Soundwave asked miserably.

"Uh I dunno," Tarn threw his arm around him, "Let's just walk. Walk ‘til we think of something.”

That seemed like a good idea. But as they walked Tarn found it hard to focus. At least on the task at hand. A question tumbled from his mouth, 

"Do you think Megatron and Starscream are… together?”

“Umm,” Soundwave’s voice was muffled due his drooping head, “Yeah.” 

The affirmation hit Tarn like an ice pick.

“You’ve seen them?”

“Nah,” Soundwave slurred, “But everyone’s with someone. Shockwave and what’s his name. Blurr. What’s so great about him anyway?”

Tarn found himself pulled sideways into an alley. Soundwave pushed him up against the wall. His head rolled up, expression tense and vulnerable,

“We’re the ones left out Tarn. You and me…”

He fell against Tarn, lips clashing against his. 

Oh, Tarn’s dulled mind said, he’s kissing me. This is nice.

Wait, no this was bad. What about Pharma? What about…

Tarn pushed Soundwave off. 

“I can’t,” he gasped, “I have someone. He…”

Soundwave looked utterly horrified. 

“I’m sorry,” he cried, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

His apologies were only interrupted by him lurching to one side and vomiting. 

**

Pharma was not happy to open his door and find Tarn supporting another man.

“Tarn what is the meaning of this?”

“He’s sick. He keeps throwing up.”

The man was slumped in Tarn’s hold like a rag doll.

“Why didn’t you take him to hospital?” Pharma hissed.

“Uh…”

Tarn hadn’t thought of that. Pharma shook his head at Tarn’s glazed expression. He was clearly inebriated. Pharma didn’t need this. He really didn’t. But he had a duty of care as a doctor. If he shut the door and the man died on his street he would be held responsible.

“Bring him inside,” he told Tarn sharply, “Into the bathroom. I don’t want him vomiting on my floor.”

Tarn lugged the man through to the bathroom. He lowered him down next to the toilet. The man let out a weak groan. Pharma pushed past Tarn to check his breathing.

“What has he ingested?” 

“Vodka. A lot of vodka.”

Pharma’s gaze narrowed.

“Having a good time were you?”

Tarn heard the accusation in Pharma’s voice. He knew – how he did know?

“It’s not like that,” he blurted, “I – he kissed me but I stopped him.”

His brain was in no state to form a lie. Pharma’s expression was stony.

“I stopped him Pharma,” Tarn reiterated. 

He reached out desperately. Pharma slapped his hand away. 

“He may have alcohol poisoning,” he said in a cold, business-like voice, “I’ll take care of him the best I can but he may need to go to hospital. Give me your cell.”

Tarn fished it out clumsily. Pharma snatched it and dialed a number.

“Is this Nickel?” he asked the person on the other end, “Good, this is Pharma. Tarn is drunk and I expect you to come collect him… Yes I know he’s an idiot… I’ll text you the address.”

He hung up as Tarn gaped in protest.

“Why did you do that?”

Pharma looked up from his texting. 

“I may have a duty of care to whoever this is because you bought him here,” he told Tarn, “But I’ll be damned if you’re staying here as well.”

He thrust the cell at Tarn and went back to his patient.

“Pharma,” Tarn reached out to touch the doctor’s shoulder.

“Don’t touch me!” Pharma seethed, “I’m serious Tarn. I don’t want feel, hear or even look at you. Go wait in the living room.”

Tarn might have objected. But the room was starting to spin and Pharma was really, really mad. He staggered into the living room and passed out on the lounge.

**Author's Note:**

> Welp Tarn's in the doghouse. And Soundwave is not much better off. Poor baby :(


End file.
